


Say You Won't Let Go

by knarcelestial



Category: Deadpool (2016), Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bodyguard, Alternate Universe - No Powers, Cute, Fluff, Forbidden Love, M/M, Superfamily, Superhusbands, The Author Has No Control, Wade Thinks Peter is Jailbait, kind of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-02-06
Updated: 2018-02-23
Packaged: 2019-03-14 11:57:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,483
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13589574
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/knarcelestial/pseuds/knarcelestial
Summary: Wade does a quick calculation, and okay, just a couple thousand light years out of your realm of dating potential, check.Wade clears his throat, “I-it’s nice to meet you.” He reaches a hand forward and then realises he’s standing too close to the kid and shoves his hand into the boy’s chest. Trying to recover from what seems to be the single most horrific moment of his lifetime, Wade takes his palm and rests it flat against Peter’s heart, “Hi.”Or, the one in which Wade is Tony's bodyguard and Tony's son isn't supposed to be this hot.





	1. Nice to Meet You

 

 

 

****

 

Tony Stark is meddling with some sort of torturously complicated contraption when Wade walks into his home office. The man is so invested in his work that he doesn’t apprehend the bodyguard's presence until Wade clears his throat, hands clutched behind his back in standard guard issue protocol, and calls on him, “Mr. Stark?”

 

The inventor hums, pulls away from the piece of equipment, and fiddles to get the pair of microscopic glasses off of his forehead before then beaming at the bodyguard, “Ah, Mr. Wilson! Happy told me you were coming in today. Come, come. Have a seat.”

 

Wade resists the urge to ask exactly _where_ he’s supposed to be sitting because nothing in this cluster-fuck of a room comes even close to resembling a piece of furniture.

 

He walks over silently instead to what he thinks is a desk and plops on top of the cluttered surface, papers and everything.

 

Tony hasn’t lost the blinding smile and it’s kind of weirding Wade out a little bit, “So, I heard you’re here to be my ‘bodyguard’” -The man uses air quotations which confuses Wade to no end because he _is_ there to be his bodyguard what’s inaccurate about that?- “but I don’t really get why Happy thinks that’s necessary in the first place.”

 

Wade frowns at the man, “Sir, you’ve been verbally targeted by several different political broadcasting services, been physically attacked by more than enough civilians, and have been on three hit lists of federally wanted hired guns in the past three months alone. Your work in the nuclear field has been a controversial piece of debate for several running years in all news media across the world and from what I’ve been briefed on, you wouldn’t have accepted my positioning in the first place had it not been for the recent attack on your son, Peter-” Wade notices the way Tony tenses up at the mention of the recent happening, but plows on to get his point across- “If it’s affecting your family, sir, then I think that’s reason enough alone to at least try to protect yourself.”

 

All traces of joy have vanished from the older man’s face, but he does look confusingly intrigued by him, “I think I like you Mr. Wilson. But, I have yet to debate with myself whether that’s a good thing or a bad thing.” Tony shrugs and stands up from his chair. He stretches with his arms up in the air for a good, long second before plucking off his cotton gloves and chucking them into a random corner of the room.

 

He turns to Wade, flaps a hand towards himself in an indication to follow, and then walks out. Wade trails behind him and takes in his surroundings with trained precision as he goes. He’s heard from the briefing that Mr. Stark prefers to spend most of his time in his home office rather than at the labs at the company building. Something about “home is where the heart and mind is” and all that, but Wade couldn’t care less. He was assigned to protect the man and if this is where he spends most of his time, then Wade needs to know the place inside and out- every _thing_ that’s in it and every _one_ who’s in it-

 

Wade takes a double take around the living room, and stops Tony in his footsteps, “Who is _that_?”

 

Tony follows the line of his outstretched arm with his eyes, “Oh, that’s my son, Peter.”

 

Wade’s face furrows in confusion. The boy looks nothing like the picture he’d seen on his profile during the briefing. Tony seems to read this on his face, because he explains, “Happy thought it’d be better to scramble up Peter’s file in the system. We’ve had some issues with security breaching in the past couple of months and thought it would be best if we just threw everybody off on Peter’s identity information.” Tony clarifies, “Peter isn’t in the constant spotlight like Steve and I. The public knows almost everything there is to know about us. If anybody were to hack into the system and find anything false on us they’d know not to trust the rest of the information on file, as well. It’s not the same with Peter, he’s not well known. And we want to keep it that way.”

 

Wade understands, if anyone were to target Peter they wouldn’t know the information they’d obtained was false because they wouldn’t have original evidence to trace it back to. It was a smart tactic, he had to give them credit. Of course, why they thought they would have to keep this information from _him_ is what he doesn’t get.

 

As if reading his mind, Tony says, “If anybody needs to know about Peter, they would know about him because of natural causes. Through friends or family, and in this case because you’re my bodyguard. We don’t want them to know about him because of a file on a system. Just about anybody could get their hands on that if they tried hard enough.”

 

Okay, fair. So, he’ll have to get more information on the boy then. It should be easy enough to do.

 

Wade follows Tony around for the rest of the house tour but his mind keeps travelling back to the boy on the couch. He remembers a hand running through chestnut brown hair, coffee-colored eyes fluttering to get the sleep out of them, and a soft, pink tongue roaming over red, cherry lips.

 

For now, though, Wade needs to push all of those thoughts to the side.

 

He’s got a job to do.

 

****

 

A week passes before he comes across the boy again.

 

This time, Tony actually _is_ in the labs at Stark Industries working on whatever new shindig he’s conjured up and he’s sent Wade back home to pick up a file from his office. Although Wade refused profusely multiple times because “I’m supposed to be by your side at all times, sir. I’m not leaving”, Tony totally blackmailed him, “If you don’t go get that file, Wade, I’ll disappear at every possible chance to make life as difficult for you as I can”. Wade obliged only after checking over security details thrice and then some before heading out.

 

Wade swears if Tony manages to get into trouble the one time he gets sent out, he’ll wait until the man recovers and then hurt him himself.

 

Wade is rifling through the junk in Tony’s office when he hears a clattering noise outside in the hall. Wade whips his gun out of its holster and flips the safety off. He takes cautious steps out into the hallway and hears movement in the kitchen. Another couple of swift strides and he’s placed himself at a junction that gives him a clear vantage point of the living room but not of the kitchen. The lights in the area are all turned off, and the dull luminescence from the far corner of the hall isn’t providing much vision clearance either.

 

Wade pulls the gun towards his chest and wraps his left hand around his right wrist to steady his angle. He hears soft footsteps pattering in his direction, calculates his timing and then turns the corner to intercept the person of question, gun pointed at their head.

 

Before he has time to react, his gun is knocked out of his hand with practiced efficiency. The person takes a hold of his wrist and twists it towards the center of his chest, kicking out with a foot and knocking him onto his knees. Wade recovers just in time to throw his momentum forward, tucking himself forward into a roll. He twists his arm out of the person’s hold and stands back up body angled parallel to the person’s back.

 

The invader isn’t largely statured. Wade could easily over power the shorter, more lean body. But, the man seems to be practiced in a combination of martial arts and self-defense techniques. Wade takes this into consideration and decides to just use brute force.

 

He takes the person by their hips and slams them into the wall chest first. Taking both of their wrists and pinning them against the surface with a strong grip, Wade kicks their legs apart to make it more difficult for them to maneuver with flexibility. He plants himself along their back to secure them in place.

 

The person squirms and Wade’s muscles ripple with strain but he doesn’t budge, “Who are you?” He asks, voice gravelly from exhaustion.

 

The person growls and struggles some more, “Who the hell are _you_?”

 

Wade slams himself against them to silence their movements, “I’m Stark’s bodyguard.”

 

And just like that the person stops everything all at once. Wade hears an exasperated, “Oh my _God_ -” and then, “It’s me, you _moron_. Peter. Peter Stark?”

 

Wade frowns, “What?” and takes the risk of reaching over to his side to flip on the light switch.

 

Blinding lights blare into vision, and Wade has to blink a couple of times to allow his eyes to adjust. When he does, he sees that the person’s right.

 

Wade yelps and jumps backwards like he’s been electrocuted, “I’m so sorry! I thought you were a robber!”

 

Peter huffs and turns around. He adjusts his shirt, a shirt that Wade notices is at least three sizes too large and is falling off of one shoulder. Not to mention, he’s got on briefs that look nearly nonexistent underneath the length of the cotton top. Wade swallows, and his eyes travel farther down to get a glimpse at long, pale hairless legs.

 

His brain-to-mouth filter has definitely stopped working because the next thing he blurts out is, “You shave?”

 

Peter rolls his eyes and crosses his arms, “I’m on the swim team at my university. It helps with drag.”

 

Realising that he’s still thoroughly staring, he shakes himself out and inhales deeply. Nothing like a mental reboot to stop himself from checking his boss’s kid out.

 

“Wait, college?” His profile said he was in high school. _Jailbait_ , his mind helpfully supplies. But, again, it _was_ mostly false information.

 

Peter raises an eyebrow, “Yes, college.”

 

“You look sixteen.”

 

“I’m twenty-one.”

 

Wade does a quick calculation, and _okay, just a couple thousand light years out of your realm of dating potential, check._

 

Wade clears his throat, “I-it’s nice to meet you.” He reaches a hand forward and then realises he’s standing too close to the kid and shoves his hand into the boy’s chest. Trying to recover from what seems to be the single most horrific moment of his lifetime, Wade takes his palm and rests it flat against Peter’s heart, “Hi.”

 

Peter looks like he’s contemplating between laughing and slapping him, “You’re really awkward.” Peter remarks, but then chuckles gently.

 

He removes Wade’s hand from his body and then twines it with his own in a regular handshake, “Nice to meet you, too. Although, officially meeting someone for the first time under gunpoint is a new one for me.”

 

Wade takes a step back and winces, “Yeah, sorry. My mind always travels to the worst case scenarios.”

 

Peter shrugs, and saunters back towards the kitchen, “It’s okay. You were doing your job. Want some coffee?”

 

“No, thank you. I actually have to get this file over to your dad at the company. That’s why I stopped by.”

 

Peter’s face falls for a second before he recovers a smile, “Oh. That’s fine. Do you have five minutes to spare? I actually had some lunch made for him. Could I pack it real quick so you can take it with you?”

 

Peter looks hopeful, and damn everything if Wade was going to be the cause of that expression disappearing, “Sure.”

 

He takes a seat at the breakfast counter and watches as Peter travels around the kitchen, grabbing containers, shovelling food, pinching some salt and pepper here and there, and while all of this is happening, maintaining a light and easy conversation with Wade.

 

“So how’d you learn self-defense?” Wade asks, mesmerized with the way Peter flawlessly floats around the area like some sort of holy angel.

 

“Dad and Pops always thought it’d be the safest bet if worse came to the worst. They put me in lessons when I was five and I’ve been training ever since.”

 

Wade hums in acknowledgement. It was a very common thing to do in celebrity families. Ranging for all sorts of reasons, but it was a good umbrella to secure one’s self with defense techniques overall.

 

“You’re really good. But, you could be better.”

 

Peter smirks, “Oh, yeah? How so?”

 

Wade recalls the way Peter was shaking in his arms from the exertion of the fight, “You need strength and endurance. You’re good but if the other person is stronger than you, they can easily overpower you. Your physique puts you at a disadvantage so you need to lean more on your speed and agility. And, from what I saw you can’t keep up that swiftness for long.”

 

Peter doesn’t look offended but rather contemplative, “So, I need to be quick but be quick for longer?”

 

Wade nods, “Exactly.”

 

“And how do I do that?”

 

Wade shrugs, “I could help you.”

 

Peter leans towards him against the counter, “You can help me?”

 

“Yeah, hi. Wade Wilson, bodyguard. I literally do this for a living?”

 

Peter hums, “Are you allowed to do that? Isn’t that going to take time away from you being my Dad’s lapdog.”

 

Wade rolls his eyes, “Funny. I definitely haven’t heard _that_ one before.” He stands up from his seat and grabs the lunchbox set in front of him by the younger man, “I’ll look into it and let you know.”

 

As he’s leaving, he hears a faint, upbeat, “I’ll be looking forward to it!”

 

And if the smile on his face stays there the rest of the day, nobody calls him out on it, anyways.

 

****

 

 

 

 


	2. Trust Me to Trust You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's happening. This is not a drill.

 

 

 

****

Wade calls in a favor to a fellow agent the next day. And, suddenly, Tony Stark has two bodyguards: Wade Wilson and Logan Howlett.

There’s a moment in time, when Wade is signing the binding contract, when everything is becoming official, when he lets himself wonder how he’s allowed himself to get so invested so fast in the first place. There’s an inkling at the back of his mind that’s shouting at him not to do it, but he pushes it aside in the wake of his better judgement.

The do wrong sensation nicks at him at the most inconvenient of times, but Wade can’t help but to ignore it when he sees Peter at the end of the day: beautiful, happy, and content.

 

****

 

The first time it happens, Wade has lost count of how many times they’ve met up so far for practice sessions. It’s one of those days where lessons go on past when the sun has set and it’s closer to night than it is evening.

 

Wade wipes away sweat with a towel and watches as Peter wheezes, forcing himself to sit up.

 

The boy had definitely underestimated what Wade had meant by ‘training’. Peter was fit, he wasn’t going to lie. He’s sure swimming for years in addition to his vigorous martial arts classes would have helped with that. However, Wade meant what he said when he said that Peter couldn’t go for long. When he asked, Peter informed him that he was a sprint racer and sometimes delved into relay races. College meets focused mostly on a single stroke race for shorter distances so he’d never had to build up stamina or work on his endurance for long.

 

To help, Wade rallied a fitness regime that included long mile runs, reps of cardio exercises, and a bit of strength training as well- muscle build up never hurt anybody.

 

Peter had shown massive improvements over the weeks. He’d even managed to put on a little muscle. He was still lean in stature, but definitely more toned.

 

With due process, Wade absorbed the pieces of Peter that the boy never showed at first glance. Frankly, it surprised him that so many different facades could exist harmoniously in a single person.

 

Peter was a wild card and Wade loved it.

 

To prove his point, Peter, declares, “We should go to the beach.”

 

Wade does a double take and sighs in resignation. “Whatever you want, baby boy.”

 

Time suddenly stops and the air around them becomes awfully repulsive to breathe. Peter pauses, wide-eyed, and stares back at Wade who is internally freaking the fuck out.

 

 _Fuck, fuck, fuck. Stupid. You can’t just_ say _things like that._

 

“Peter. Listen-”

 

“It’s okay.” Peter interrupts him. Eyes cautious and attentive, a familiar emotion flickers across them. Hope?

 

“Peter…” Wade sighs and runs a hand through his hair. It’s greasy and probably long enough now that he needs a haircut, but he needs to be doing anything right now than to look into Peter’s eyes. He sits down on a weight bench and rests his elbows against his knees and cradles his face, “You need to lea-”

 

“I like it.” Peter says, and it’s so soft that Wade has to glance up at him to confirm that he’s actually said it.

 

“You what?”

 

Peter’s face is red and Wade’s not sure if it’s because of the exercise or if it’s because he’s blushing, “I like it.” He repeats, fiddling with the hem of his shirt.

 

Wade is shocked into silence. He contemplates quietly to himself when along this relationship of theirs that Peter had started to be okay with him calling him pet names instead of wanting to file a restraining order against him.

 

“Peter, you can’t mean that.”

 

Peter saunters towards him. He hasn’t broken their eye contact, but when Peter comes to stand right in front of him, he chooses instead to frown down at the floor.

 

Peter takes his chin by the tip of his forefinger and tugs until Wade’s looking at him again, “I mean it.”

 

“You don’t know what you want, then.”

 

Peter huffs, “I’m not a child. I’m an adult and I’m pretty sure I know how to understand what I’m feeling.”

 

Wade is as still as a statue, tense enough that Peter know he’s going to flee if he makes any sudden movements. He takes a careful step forward and knocks his knee against Wade’s to spread his knees apart to make space for himself.

 

Wade doesn’t reject him, but he doesn’t readily accept his gesture either.

 

“I’m almost a decade older than you.” Wade says, shaking his head. But, Peter hears what he’s trying to say: _I’m not right for you_.

 

“I see the way you look at me, Wade. You want me. And if you’ve held off this long than I know you would never willingly hurt me on purpose. Plus-” Peter takes Wade’s face into the palms of his hands, and tilts his head up, “-I’m not a minor.”

 

“Peter-” Wade sighs in frustration, taking his own hands and removing the ones Peter has cupped around his face, “that’s not what I’m worried about. Have you ever even been in a relationship?”

 

Peter keeps mum but that’s answer enough.

 

“You don’t even have a precedent to look back on. What if I do something and-”

 

Peter nudges his hand against his cheek, “Hey? Is that what you’re worried about? That I won’t tell you if I feel like something is wrong?”

 

“You wouldn’t know if something _should_ be wrong, Pete.”

 

“Well, then we can work through it. If you’re that concerned about my comfort then I’m sure you’d be just as careful through this.”

 

“I’m-”

 

“Oh my God, Wade. Look at me-” Wade glances up at him, “Do you trust me?”

 

Wade nods, but Peter doesn’t let him talk, “Then, you should trust me to tell you that I trust _you_. You’re not going to hurt me because I know that you won’t. And I’m not walking out of here tonight with anything short of a boyfriend of you, do you hear me?”

 

Wade swallows and nods unconsciously.

 

Peter beams at him and Wade responds by pulling him down into a kiss.

 

It starts out slow and hesitant, the both of them exploring their limits. Wade lets Peter take what he can, but never pushes for anything himself. Peter mutters something under his breath halfway through the kiss and Wade pulls away to hear him better, “What?”

 

“My back hurts.” And only then does Wade realise that Peter is half hunched over him standing in the middle of a stinky gym. Wade chuckles and stands up. He tugs on Peter’s hand and pushes him towards the exit, “Why don’t we take this home?”

 

“My home or your home?”

 

Wade stops in his tracks, “My home.” And then with a growing sense of horror realises, “Your parents are going to be so pissed.”

 

****

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter, guys! But, let me know what you think in the comments below! :)

**Author's Note:**

> Hey y'all! I have some plans for the next couple of chapters of the story. But, I would love to hear some opinions from you guys to see if I should add or take out anything I have in my drafts so far! I love hearing from y'all. You guys have the best ideas! I could definitely incorporate something here and there if you let me know :)
> 
> Comment below with some ideas!! And thanks for reading! :D


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